Black and White
by Emerald Embers
Summary: It's a game neither of them can win. Vorador/Janos


**Title**: Black and White

**Pairing**: Vorador/Janos

**Rating**: PG12 for bad language and slash

**Dedication**: gardensgnome

**Summary**: It's a game neither of them can win.

.

_"Bishop from E4 to G6."_

Janos looked the crow in its beady black eyes, looked back to the chessboard, then wrote out his reply on the traditional slip of paper before attaching it to the bird's leg and letting it fly home while he resumed his own duties.

_"I think you may be mistaken."_

_.  
_

Morning prayer came and went smoothly enough despite the loud "caw" demanding attention from outside. The bird was only magic given form, no true animal, and so he felt no guilt for leaving it to wait. Still, common courtesy demanded he pet its sleek, unfeeling feathers to soothe any affronted notions it might have as he read the latest command.

_"Bishop from E4 to G6."_ And on the other side of the strip, _"Check your damned eyes old man."_

Janos snorted on laughter despite himself before writing back, _"There is a horse in your way."_ And, as an afterthought, _"Check your own."_

_.  
_

Afternoon prayer also came and went smoothly, as did the evening's; Janos rather hoped the bird hadn't been felled by some poor human expecting a meal and receiving a pale green explosion and puzzling scrap of paper instead. By night-fall it seemed more and more likely that his concerns were well-placed given the lack of response.

Slightly startling, then, to turn around and be greeted by Vorador bent over the chessboard.

"Good evening," Janos started, prompting Vorador to look up, eyes flashing gold in the firelight. Another Change, then.

"I must have skipped one of your moves," Vorador explained. It wasn't an apology; wasn't the truth either, given the set of his face. Janos had memorised nearly every look his fledgling could give, and despite apparent practise, Vorador still wasn't a particularly good liar.

Not to him, anyway.

"You look good," Vorador said. "I wish I could say the same of myself." Janos went to speak, found himself cut off by Vorador raising a hand. "No platitudes, for God's sake, I hear enough at home."

Janos nodded before looking back to the chessboard. "In that case, as you're here -"

"I'll get the spare stool," Vorador agreed.

Janos began to wonder why his fledgling wouldn't just admit to a need for like-minded company, then remembered that they weren't quite as similar as they had once thought and the differences between them fired the same pride that left Vorador seeking excuses to visit.

Suitably chastened by his own train of thought, he took his place and waited.

.

"Again?"

Janos checked, knowing the truth even before confirming it. "Stalemate."

"Damn it," Vorador grumbled. "I thought I had you this time."

Janos clicked his tongue behind his teeth and shook his head before smiling. "Maybe in another game. Are you heading home now or..?"

Vorador tensed visibly, eyes darkening for a moment. "No."

Janos knew better than to ask which question Vorador was answering, chose instead to put away the chess set before sitting back down by his fledgling. "The guest bedroom is made up, as usual." he hesitated to speak any further, Vorador's mood hard to read in this light.

"And yours?"

"Always." It was a confirmation he could give freely, but with a heavy heart. He didn't mean to burden his fledgling with the fact he was alone up here, God knew he had come to terms with the solitude years ago, but it did not change the fact Vorador was intelligent enough to work that out on his own.

"You never change," Vorador said at length. "Centuries are enough for human empires to form and fall, yet you remain the same."

"I have no reason to be otherwise," Janos replied, tone careful, gauging Vorador's mood. He jumped slightly despite himself on finding his wrists seized by clawed hands.

"Centuries, but you still believe in a God who ignores you and love someone who no longer lives with you. You don't consider that reason enough for change?"

"Do you love me?" Janos asked back, choosing against rising to Vorador's bait, not expecting an answer and unsurprised by the silence. "Everything takes its place from there. I'll never turn my back on you." He stood, waiting only a moment before pulling a hand free of Vorador's grip to take his fledgling by the chin and tilt upwards. "Stay the week if you want. The winter solstice is a miserable time to spend alone."

Vorador's expression seemed to shift, contemplation, an awkward satisfaction, then humour. "And there's another reason I don't believe in your God." Janos tilted his head, narrowed his eyes slightly. "If I were God and saw someone who worshiped me while looking as you do? I'd have to take a mortal form just to fuck you."

Janos laughed before warding himself against the blasphemy and gesturing with his head towards the bedroom. "Mortal form or no, you don't need to be God for that."

Vorador grinned, standing up and kissing Janos once, briefly. "True. But if I were God, I wouldn't stop to ask permission."

.

The End


End file.
